


home is where the heart is

by perfectlyrose



Category: Broadchurch, Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannah is in London for the week and Hardy is...not dealing terribly well with her absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	home is where the heart is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxmoon/gifts).



> The lovely Fox requested Hannah/Hardy established relationship, pining, fluff :)
> 
> this kinda follows on from [this ficlet](http://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com/post/140007716960/hardy-x-hannah-caught) but no knowledge of it is necessary :)

Hardy sat in bed, thumbing absently through a case file. It was a cold case, untouched and gathering dust for fifteen years until he’d dug it out of the archives that afternoon in a fit of boredom. The only cases that had come in had been shoplifting and a bit of minor vandalism, nothing that actually required his attention for more than an hour.

He’d been hoping for something to distract him from the fact that the other side of the bed, _her_  side of the bed, was cold and empty.

The cold case was doing nothing on that front, just frustrating him with evidence of shoddy police work instead of _actual_  evidence in the case. Hardy groaned and whipped off his glasses to run his hand down his face.

This was ridiculous. He’d managed these nights just fine before Hannah had waltzed into his life and turned it upside down with her smile and he should be able to deal with them now.

She was only gone back to London for a week, for fuck’s sake, he should be _fine_.

(But the fact was there was an ache in his heart that had nothing to do with his health problems and the flat felt dull without her laughter and sparkle lending it life.)

He tossed the case file onto her side of the bed and slumped back against his pillows. Two days. Two more bloody days and she would be back home with him. He could make it two days.

Probably.

He was just contemplating getting up and turning out the lights and trying to make it an early night when his mobile started buzzing madly on the nightstand, making an unreasonable amount of noise in the underpopulated flat.

“Hello?” he answered gruffly, pretending that he hadn’t already seen Hannah’s name pop up on the screen and that his heart hadn’t started beating a little faster.

“Hey there,” she said softly, smile audible. “Haven’t keeled over in my absence, then?”

“Hardly.”

“Anything exciting going on?”

Hardy resisted the urge to just repeat himself. Barely. “Nothing worth mentioning. How were today’s meetings?”

“Brilliant! I officially have an exclusive deal with one of the big papers to publish my column and my editor thinks my book should be ready to go in a couple of months minimum.”

“That’s brilliant, Han.” He wanted to be able to hug her, to say with his hands and his embrace and his kiss what he was so bad at saying with words. He was just so proud of her.

“Yup! Might be able to swing coming home tomorrow instead of Saturday as well. Things are mostly finished up here and I don’t want to be away from you too long.” She paused and he could practically see her chewing on her lower lip. “I miss you,” she said. “I miss being home.”

“I miss you, too,” he admitted, hand straying over to her side of the bed like he’d actually find her there.

“Still been using my shampoo?”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated groan. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

(He had, in fact, been using her shampoo every morning. Had even made her favorite tea this morning instead of his.)

“Nope.” Her voice turned sultry. “Been using anything else of mine in the shower? Thinking of me?”

“I’m not having phone sex with you tonight, Hannah,” he said, projecting sternness even as he cracked a smile.

“Does that mean you’ll have phone sex with me some other time?” She asked, ever the optimist.

“Just come home and you can have the real thing,” he promised.

“I’ll be home tomorrow. London isn’t nearly as much fun without you.”

“Good.”

They said their goodbyes and rang off and as Hardy turned out the lights, he knew that tomorrow, when she would be back on her side of the bed and back in his arms, couldn’t possibly come fast enough.


End file.
